Chapter 87: Disintegration

Monday afternoon, Pingjiang Execution Team 1, fourth-floor corridor.

Li Yuan stared blankly at the cup of tea sitting on the floor. A pitiful amount of tea leaves swirled within the paper cup, drifting high, then low, occasionally spinning in small eddies.

She only snapped back to reality when a burning sensation reached her fingers. Belatedly, she dropped the cigarette—which had burned down to the filter without having been smoked even once—into the tea. Ash scattered into the water, mixing with the leaves. It looked somewhat nauseating.

A heated argument seemed to have broken out in the room behind her, chaotic noise spilling out. Li Yuan didn’t want to hear any of it, but the shouts still wormed their way into her ears, sticky as glue, flowing from her ear canal to drape heavily over her heart, dragging it down, down, lower, and lower, until it hit the very bottom.

Just yesterday—Sunday—news had reached Team 1. Pingjiang Group 2 Team Leader Yu Mi had defected from the confinement room. The first to encounter him were Team 1 Executors Jing Youyu and Chi Rongfei. Both drew their firearms and issued a warning the moment they saw him, but Yu Mi showed no restraint whatsoever. By the time other Executors arrived on the scene, all they found was utter devastation, a site looking as if it had been sliced apart by helicopter blades, along with the critically injured Jing Youyu—both legs severed—and Chi Rongfei, who had died on the spot.

She had seen the surveillance footage from the incident scene. The perpetrator had deliberately avoided destroying the cameras, an unmistakable act of provocation. The footage recorded everything.

The man who entered the frame wore hospital attire, holding a very thin, light fruit knife. His speed was neither fast nor slow; it looked less like a defection and more like a casual stroll. So Jing Youyu and Chi Rongfei, stationed in the Monitoring Room, rushed into the corridor immediately. They drew their sidearms, aimed squarely at the man, and warned him to drop the weapon… but he continued forward at that same steady pace.

After the warnings went unheeded, Jing Youyu had no choice but to shoot.

The gun rang out. The bullet seemed to truly strike the man in the abdomen. He staggered a step back. But just as Jing Youyu thought he would fall, the man raised the hand holding the fruit knife and made a dismissive slicing motion towards Jing Youyu. Chi Rongfei’s reaction speed could certainly be called swift; he fired three shots, two of which struck the man’s knife-wielding wrist. The problem was, it still wasn’t fast enough. That single slash was still unleashed.

It appeared as an invisible, razor-sharp blade. From one point to another, it cut in a straight line, cleaving through Jing Youyu’s legs, Chi Rongfei’s chest and abdomen, and the long corridor behind them. Chi Rongfei was likely cut directly through the heart. His upper torso slid to the ground, and all the blood in his body erupted from the cut like a ruptured massive water tank, splattering across a seven-meter radius, even painting the ceiling red.

Not even the most grotesque splatter horror film would use such exaggerated amounts of blood. The man used Chi Rongfei’s blood to dye half the corridor crimson.

After doing all this, the man didn’t immediately leave. He simply turned his head, looking towards the corridor camera. It was undoubtedly Yu Mi. His bullet-stricken arm hung limp, likely broken. His other, still-functional hand pressed against his abdomen, blood continuously seeping through his fingers. Judging by the amount of blood loss, he didn’t have long to live either.

But the Team 1 Executors didn’t find his body, meaning he hadn’t died, and he had an accomplice who helped him escape the scene. Consequently, all members of Group 2 were suspended and placed under investigation, all missions halted. Even Qi Xin, the Trainee Executor, was no exception. Everyone was integrated into Team 1 to cooperate with the investigation and assist in apprehending the defector Yu Mi.

The vehicle used in his escape was quickly traced: a black Audi. The owner was Special Executor Jiang Suyan, who had visited Yu Mi the day before. The car was eventually found by a riverside, but Jiang Suyan and Yu Mi had vanished without a trace. No further news emerged; it was as if they had simply disappeared into the river.

A Special Executor with nine years of service and a stellar record, and an Execution Division Team Leader with eleven years, a man known for his tireless dedication—together, they had committed this heinous act, the greatest mockery of the entire Executor System. The forums appeared calm on the surface, but everyone knew of the incident. The news spread like wildfire. Even the forum administrators’ desperate attempts to block it were futile. The sign of the hooked index fingers spread as well. Even a fool could understand the meaning of that gesture.

Solidarity.

In the face of their innate Talents, firearms held little terror. If the person holding the gun was dead, the gun itself was nothing but scrap metal.

Those Disease Supremacists had finally bared their hidden, razor-sharp fangs. That hand sign was just a seed, a single spark, planted into the heart of every patient… though perhaps ‘Gifted’ would be a more fitting term now. The law couldn’t protect them, but that also meant it couldn’t bind them.

Most damning were the identities of Yu Mi and Jiang Suyan. They were Executors, and the most seasoned among them. Probably over ninety-five percent of Executors wouldn’t dare claim to be more deserving of the title than those two. And such people were hidden Disease Supremacists? Even the word ‘humiliating’ seemed far too mild.

No matter how much other Executors wanted to deny it, the overwhelming evidence proved one undeniable fact: this was a long-planned conspiracy. Yu Mi was one of the masterminds. He had been concealing the progression of his Syndrome all along. It had worsened to an unimaginable degree. Even two elite Team 1 Executors hadn’t even had a chance to use their own abilities against him.

Li Yuan didn’t believe the conclusion that Yu Mi had planned all this long ago for a single second. But she offered no resistance, cooperating fully with the investigation.

She didn’t know, if she were prepared and fully transformed into her monstrous state, what the outcome of facing such a Yu Mi would be. That sense of absolute, sharp lethality was terrifying. Even a wall would only obediently be cleaved in two before it. While she possessed inhuman regenerative abilities, Yu Mi could simply carve her up continuously at a speed her Regeneration couldn’t match. After all, even disregarding his Syndrome, Yu Mi was an expert with bladed weapons.

Even setting all that aside, the final and most important point remained: she had never imagined a day would come when she would have to face Yu Mi’s Syndrome.

She was intimately familiar with Yu Mi’s ability, more so than anyone. She had just never imagined a scenario where she would stand against it.

Raising her head, she saw Qi Xin sitting on the bench across the corridor.

The girl sat upright as always, a book resting on her lap. The title on the cover was The Mystery of the Hat. It was a mystery novel Zhou Liao had recommended to her three days prior, along with The Mystery of the Shoes and The Mystery of the Coffin.

She read quietly, turning pages considerately without making a sound.

Truthfully, Li Yuan could more or less guess the girl’s thought process. In her view, if Yu Mi had defected, then he was no longer a companion, so she no longer needed to think about him. Zhou Liao, however, was a companion, so she had to please Zhou Liao. Books recommended by Zhou Liao needed to be finished, and then she must provide her thoughts on them. That was why, even at a time like this, she was engrossed in a detective novel. She needed to prepare for any future questions or discussions Zhou Liao might initiate.

Actually, she hadn’t done anything wrong, and nothing about her had changed. It had been like this from the very beginning, and it was still like this even now. To her, everyone was the same, divided into those she needed to please and those she didn’t. Even Li Yuan was no exception, belonging to the former category. If one day Li Yuan were to disappear like Yu Mi, or die, the girl wouldn’t be truly sad. She might buy a flower as a polite gesture to mark the end, but that would be all. Afterwards, she would relegate the name ‘Li Yuan’ to the category not needing to be pleased, and then continue walking her path, doing what needed to be done.

Perhaps only Qi Ran was truly special to her. Only when speaking of Qi Ran would she show some small, personal thoughts. But that was only natural; they were twin sisters, after all. Even if they had been artificially separated, some things simply couldn’t be severed. Li Yuan thought, feeling somewhat weary.

But it seemed the planned birthday party probably wouldn’t happen now.